Monday, February 06, 2012

'What's the time now?''Yes, I am sorry..''Yes. Do you know, for how long I've been here?'

While alice wanted to talk more on her waiting, a question, what could've happened in the last three hours, anyway?, passed her mind. Time, sometimes stalked her like a loud voice from behind, sometimes left her alone, too alone, that she could not guess if it was three hours, three days or three weeks -

They walked the street down a hill to a city, holding hands; passed an empty afternoon restaurant, sharp sirens of fire brigades, a church that never was open. People walked by, talking in loud voices. And then there was nothing, time had ceased to exist. But wasn't that a cliche’, a long forgotten and a despised one - time always exists, alice reminded herself - she was twenty seven years, six months, three weeks and three days old and tomorrow she was one day older.
Alice had waited for him by the street in front of a door to the empty afternoon restaurant. And there was snow falling on to her face, with the winds, for the ﬁrst time in her life, so unlike her country in the tropics - it drained the sky, so unromantic so cold.
She stood there under an unlit marquee, shivering from ﬁrst times which always were longer and heavier than the other times;like kissing an ice cream dripping pair of lipsa pair of hands holding her breastsnipples erect for the ﬁrst conscious timesa slight beating pulse on a right hand - while she asked;Is it really possible to be silent, could you nothear your own heart beatin every noiselessness -so could it really be called silenceever?
That word ever, sent a nerve unwinding across her body, when she first said it to him and when she remembered it now again in an afternoon of pale-white shiver,why did we use such words so much,words that no longer decompose.
And then he came, they held hands and walked down as she waited again, foranother three hours three days three weeks, may be there was another oneof the ﬁrst times - as they walked past the ever closed church, the ever loud people, noises.
She looked down the hill to an evening sky,there was no more snow falling -saw large clouds - of thoughtsof all those who went by and were ever therespread across a city skyline;endless listsof me and mineof the very first timesof kissesof one's own cliche's,they ﬂoated above and flowed with the winds,slowly decomposed-as did time.